Famous Thanksgiving Pie
by Disco Shop Girl
Summary: Chuck makes an unexpected and uninvited guest to Thanksgiving dinner at the Waldorfs. And on the way up he's snagged a certain dessert from the doorman that will make a certain heiress very happy indeed. Set during 1x09 Blair Waldorf Must Pie!


"Now choose one of those amazing desserts," Eleanor ordered her daughter through politely grit teeth.

Blair angrily eyed her mother, then turned towards the dessert cart meaning to spite her manipulative parent and do just that. Choose an entire dessert. Only when she turned, she jumped, completely startled.

Sauntering across the room with his trademark self-confident swagger and an immaculate suit was Chuck Bass.

"Blair," he smirked knowingly and casually leaned in, brushing his nose against her cheek then kissing gently. To anyone else it would have seemed almost friendly. To Blair it would have seemed like blatant foreplay, made her heart flutter in that way she didn't want to admit.

If she wasn't so focused on the dish in his hand that it is.

"I thought you were going to Chicago," she stared at the perfect burnt orange surface of a familiar looking dish, steam actually rising from the top.

"I had a craving for your pie," he was completely smug with his innuendo-laced declaration as his eyes flicked down to Harold Waldorf's signature pumpkin Thanksgiving special. "The doorman thought your mother may have given it away by accident."

He smiled devilishly over Blair's shoulder.

"Hello Mrs. Waldorf," he greeted, just a tad too chipper. He was a foreign power, committed by a rock solid treaty and a vast army in Blair's war against her mother.

Eleanor glared at the smug teenager as Blair turned back to look at her too.

"Charles," her voice was as cold as her expression. "We didn't expect to see you today."

Mrs. Waldorf's displeasure heartily emboldened the dark pair.

"But it's _such _a _welcome _surprise. And this pie looks absolutely delicious," Blair triumphantly grinned at the matriarch. "Come talk to me in the kitchen." She loved that disappearing with Chuck, whom her mother thoroughly disapproved of, would make the sting just that little bit more intense.

The boy indicated for her to lead the way and Blair, quite comfortable in her place as ruling Queen, did just that. She gave Dorota a _look _as she swanned into the kitchen and the maid ensured all the servers disappeared quick smart.

Chuck smoothly slid the pie onto the marble countertop and himself into a bar stool, propping up on an elbow and cautiously waiting as one by one the staff left them. Then he nudged the hot dish forward, eying her darkly.

"What's going on?" he demanded once they were alone. The mask of false smugness completely disappeared and in its place was surprisingly real anger. "I thought your dad was coming and why was this," he nudged the pie dish, "about to be chowed down on by _staff_?"

She opened a drawer, took out two forks and handed him one with a small smile that refused to stay hidden creeping up onto her lips.

"I can't believe you rescued it," she dug in her fork and brought that first delicious mouthful to her lips.

"I can't believe you're wearing that dress. Did your mother pick it out?"

She raised an eyebrow in affirmative answer to his question. Of course. He eyed the garment distastefully then pondered the last time she'd been wearing something so staid. Two nights before her birthday, at his victory party at Victrola. And what she'd been wearing under that led to the best fucking sex of his well-experienced life.

She might be wearing something as thin and silky now. Wickedly he dug his own fork into the pie after her and brought it to his lips, deliberately licking at the smooth filling while he conjured up images in his imagination.

He wanted it again, what she'd done to him in his limousine that night. It's why he'd gone to some extra effort to escape his dad's function, and come here instead. Eleanor's room full of fashion glitterati made him glad, to know he wasn't the only one less important than business deals on what was supposed to be a family holiday. His mind kept wandering, thinking of her at her birthday party when Nate's betrayal had made her beautifully aggressive and pushed her, wanton, into his arms.

Even though he'd been thinking about it for two weeks he still couldn't identify what had happened there. He'd been quite sure that putting the necklace around her throat would change something and he had persisted in trying until her birthday officially begun. For a long moment, just looking at each other in that mirror, something else had been going on, something he couldn't identify. All he knew was that the butterflies were back and even more excited than ever. And Nate was completely fluttered out of her complicated mind.

He'd never felt wanted like he did that night at Koti's brother's. How adverse would Blair be to sneaking upstairs while her mother's guests were still here? While her _mother _was still here?

"Serena saw us."

He froze just for a split second, then continued chewing more slowly. He was pretty sure that whatever was going on between them, being seen wasn't an advantage. There was only one way he knew to react to that. Smarmy. "I hope she took notes. Humphrey could use a few pointers."

Blair snorted in laughter and quickly lifted her hand to cover her mouth. She looked beautifully dainty as she did that, long thin fingers covering her plump pumpkin-brushed lips. He glanced to the door and noticed it had swung close behind the last of the retreating Help. Once he had confirmation they were alone he sprung forward in his chair and pressed his lips to hers.

The soft pumpkin-brushed sweetness responded instantly, and he got his first taste of the amazingness that was making out with his complete equal. She kissed him right back, a little breathy sigh escaping that sounded very pleased when he tilted to kiss her deeper and coincidentally rubbed their noses together. Soon her hand was wrapping around his neck, hungrily holding him to her so she could taste his mouth right back. After a few seconds he couldn't think of anything but Blair and how her tongue was surprisingly warm, her lips moist with a hint of sugary gloss.

"So," Blair pulled back and smiled at him wickedly. "Do you like the pie?"

His face lifted into a genuine smile as he took in her beautifully flushed cheeks.

"Love it."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her around the edge of the island, so there was no longer a whole counter between them. She didn't need coaxing. In fact she rested one of her legs against his thigh and pressed in awfully close.

"Anything to be thankful for this year?" she asked prettily.

Just as she lifted her supple leg over his lap and he got his first clue as to what was beneath her dress. Silk, thigh-high stockings for a start. Smooth and luxurious and held up by a garter that ended mid way up a fuck-hot thigh. His eyes rolled back as his hand landed on the tantalising perfection of her warm, bared, luscious flesh.

"Silk," he leaned into her and fingered the garter, grinning as she gasped.

He knew it! She was wearing a slip! A flimsy, decadent, silken one to be exact. He could feel it hidden beneath her chaste dress, sliding against the back of his hand as he crept along her thigh.

"Pearls," he leaned in and kissed her spectacular neck. Running his tongue over the string of seeds that dotted her throat and smiling as he felt her swallow nervously. He pressed his nose in close and inhaled a deep, satisfying breath. "The scent of Dior," he recognised it from the week before. And it made his body _react _to her in a primal way he'd never experienced.

He could always get himself excited to fuck a woman. He'd never been over-ruled by his dick though, and so physically _compelled _to do it.

"You?" he prompted, pulling back to look at her from beneath dark, smouldering eyes and trying to get a hold of himself.

"Not being the only virgin in the Junior class," she smirked and his heart leapt in triumphant glee. He snorted, then full on laughed as he encircled her with his arm. She was _effing _spectacular! "Having an evening full of the best orgasms of my _life _ahead of me." He looked at her in disbelief, his grin widening even further if that was possible. Oh he was going to make sure of that. "And of course Dior. I'm thinking about changing my signature scent," she casually tacked on the end.

He nuzzled his face into her neck and heartily approved the choice.

"I am so going to ravish you," he threatened, drawing that hot thigh further around his waist so she knew just what part of him would be doing the ravishing.

"We'll see who ravishes who," she sing-songed.

She looked him directly in the eye while stroking the backs of her fingers down the side of his face. They were smitten, completely and utterly, and anyone walking in that moment would have seen it.

No one did interrupt them though, Dorota saw to that. Blair reached behind her and dipped her finger into the sweet pie-filling, scooping it up.

"It's warm," she teased him, lifting her gooey fingers to his mouth.

Chuck parted his lips and immediately captured both digits, curling his tongue around her delicate skin and then sucking the smooth pumpkin down his throat. Blair watched him, wide-eyed and wicked with smouldering dark eyes. Her fingers tugged when he swallowed and she slowly pulled them free of his seducing lips.

"More?" she brushed her thumb over his pouty bottom lip, tempting him and doing a damn fine job of it. He reached out with his teeth, snapping at her retreating fingertips and growling lightly when he caught them again.

Blair yanked her hand free and slammed her lips over his instead. His libido exploded and he excitedly dove right in, desperate to get a decent taste of her. His hand passionately clutched the back of her dress and she could feel the feather-light touch of his other palm floating up her thigh, trying to get her closer. She slid her ringed finger onto his freshly-shaven cheek and caressed the baby softness in her palm, tilting her head to capture his full lips entirely with her own.

Damn him! How did he manage to do this to her?

She made the snap decision then and there that he wasn't going anywhere tonight except upstairs and into her bed.

"Why are you here?" she distractedly inquired between kisses.

"Had a hot dream about you this morning," he justified, catching her bottom lip between his own and slowly dragging away.

As if that was enough reason to make him forego one of the only days of the year Bart deigned to pay him any attention. Blair purred in excitement because she'd never been that valuable to anyone and he had to grin triumphantly.

"Mmmm?" she prompted, wanting to hear the rest. Her heart was already fluttering, why not make it slam? "Must have been a pretty hot dream. Weren't you in Chicago?"

"Yes," he nibbled her lip now. "Was gonna jerk off until I remembered I'm Chuck Bass." He pulled back and looked her directly in the eye. "Why fantasise about how hot you are when I can just get the G5 back and have you."

His caramel-brown eyes widened in threatening warning.

"Have me," Blair repeated the phrasing, amused. "What makes you think you can just _have me_?"

He moved his hands to either side of her waist and yanked her close to his body. The fact that they were each pressing into the other intimately and their faces were so close they shared breath made it clear they were both just teasing. The final end was already a sealed deal.

"I brought pie," he reminded, pouting playfully.

"Anything else?" she traced her soft fingertip along his bottom lip, pretending to weigh up his case.

"I promise I'll do to you what I did in my dream."

Blair paused, clearly excited. "Which was?" she prompted.

He let her squirm for a minute, thinking all sorts of possibilities while she rubbed against his willing lap in anticipation. Finally he leaned forward and brushed his lips to her ear. Only three words came out. "Use my mouth."

Blair's eyes widened in explosive excitement. Before their first night together she was innocent, not naïve. She had a vivid imagination and could fantasise about all sorts of things Chuck Bass might be able to do.

She had been fantasising almost non-stop since their first time together.

But the promising words from his decadently slow lips provided all sorts of movie clips for her. Considering that his smell had been in her nostrils and his taste on her tongue for the last five minutes, she was beyond willing. His words just made her slick and ready inside to feel his delicious, evil tongue that did such hot things to her mouth do something even more intimate.

He hadn't done that particular thing to her yet but he was, after all, _Chuck Bass _and the things he did to her _ear _were amazing. She could only imagine what his dirty mouth could do between her legs if only she let him down there. In fact she had imagined, last night, when he was in Chicago and she was alone in her bed. She hadn't realised how wet she could get until she'd been thinking about him for ten minutes and then tentatively touched herself to relieve the ache.

He was watching every minute of her pure reaction and his tongue lapped at her ear, almost panting with lust. "Do you like it?" he prodded her decadently. "The idea of me taking you like that?"

The nod followed so quickly on his sentence that he switched into planning mode, willing to forego further foreplay for now and make it up to her later. They could try _it _down here, with her perched on the kitchen bench and him on his knees on the floor. For most women he wouldn't bother but for Blair his mouth was watering in hungry want. He caressed her silky thighs again and longed for them wrapped around his head, his tongue buried deep in the moist slit between.

"You want it too," Blair lustily realised. Her hand ran down his front and settled between them, on the hard evidence.

"Bad enough to fly back from Chicago," he quantified, nosing her curls off her neck and loving it with his tongue.

"No skanks in Chicago to help you out?" she teased, a biting edge slipping into her words that neither of them could ignore.

Blair knew how to be a girlfriend, to think she could rely on the faithfulness of the person she spent her days kissing. Chuck knew how to be a one-night stand, to give pleasure without any commitment.

Neither quite knew how to become the other but they'd already met halfway.

He covered her hand and helped her rub over him slowly. It took everything he had not to thrust up into her dainty little hand and finish it just like that, clothed and in her kitchen.

"My dream was about tonguing a perfect society queen in her bed until she became so angry with denied completion that she forced me between her thighs," he rose up, until their eyes were level and he could taste her harsh, panted breaths on his tongue. "A Chicago whore wouldn't have sufficed."

She captured his jaw and kissed him hungrily. Climbed into his lap this time and pressed her lacy underwear against his suit pants and raging hardon. Good.

She started loosening his tie

"Your mother has guests," he reminded distractedly, clutching at her back again.

"So?" she didn't seem to care.

She licked her tongue over his and _he _almost didn't care. Except that he wanted to fuck her beyond today, and he didn't want to be denied access to the Waldorf penthouse to do it.

"I'm impressed. Down here where they could see?" he pulled away and raised a pointed eyebrow in question.

Blair looked at the servant's stairs discreetly leading to the second floor. Then at his rumpled shirt and messed up hair and full pouty lips. Under her dress she hadn't bothered to wear a bra, just a soft silk slip and Chuck caressing her hip like that was making everything too vivid. Too real. Her usually smooth, yielding nipples were tightening to painful little points eager to burst free of the fabric and into his welcoming hands.

She wanted to remove the rest of her underwear and take that hard length deep inside herself like he'd been five times already now. She wanted to drown in the faint musk she could already begin to smell, the scent of Chuck and sweat and sex which would lie heavy on her tongue if only she could arouse him enough.

His fingers twitched on her vulnerable waist.

"Upstairs," she quickly agreed, hopping off the stool and taking his hand.

He pressed up behind her quickly and began stringing kisses along her neck.

"You're going to love this," he throatily whispered. "I can already tell."

"You're so desperate for it you flew half way across the continent," she sweetly reminded him.

"Because I can only _imagine _how good you taste," he bit his lip and stared hungrily at her pink mouth. "I want proof," he huskily whimpered. Then distractedly nudged her forward. If he didn't get some part of him inside her soon the want was going to overwhelm him, then he doubted he could resist simply pressing his cock into her wherever they stood. And if she didn't slide the lace away from her ready skin the friction was going to make her come without anything inside her.

God she wanted something inside her.

Later, when Eleanor's friends made enough raucous leaving to cover the sound of Chuck finally letting her reach her peak, she collapsed. Utterly and completely, every muscle in her body going limp and her breathing halting for a second as she couldn't even do that. But then she rolled onto her side and hesitantly pressed her hand against his rough, dark chest.

"Worth it," he smiled smugly.

"Worth what?" she asked, embarrassingly sleepy and fighting the urge to stay awake because she was sure her mother would be storming up here soon.

He threw his arm over her and pressed them close together. He had a ridiculous smile on his face, the actually genuinely happy kind that she had seen more in the past month than in their entire acquaintance.

"Worth flying across the north-east," he justified, rubbing her cheek with his own then kissing her ear softly. Again.

Blair's phone rang and she lazily reached for her bedside table, lifting it to see who was calling. Maybe Serena, to apologise, or Koti and Iz to beg her to come out tonight.

Instead a very long string of numbers was written on the screen, indicating an international call.

"Daddy!" she greeted eagerly.

"Hello precious," his voice was so far away but so familiar. "How's your day been?"

She knew it must be very late in France and felt more special now that she knew he'd stayed awake to call her. They started chatting, which made Chuck huff dramatically and reach for her laptop once it was clear she wasn't going to pay him any attention.

They lounged side-by-side in bed, Chuck surfing Facebook while she and her Dad debriefed. He nudged her once or twice when he came across pictures of their classmates in compromising moments but for the most part there was an oddly comfortable silence.

At one particularly inopportune moment he stumbled across a picture that made him snort with laughter. One of Nate's lacrosse buddies being kneed in the groin, by a public school girl, at a family Thanksgiving lunch. Before he could stop himself the sound had slipped out and he was laughing. Blair's eyes drifted to see what was so funny, giggling herself. Chuck pointed to the background where another lacrosse star was making out with an ugly freshman.

'Desperate' he mouthed to her. Blair nodded in complete agreement.

"Who was that? Is Nate there with you?" her Dad's voice chirped from the phone, confused.

Her eyes popped open because Chuck could also hear the enquiry. He quirked a wicked eyebrow at her, clearly amused to see how she was going to wiggle her sweet way out of this one.

"Chuck is here," Blair stepped up to the challenge. "You know Nate and I broke up."

There was a pause and then he repeated "Chuck," with such disbelief that both his child and her non-maybe-boyfriend grinned.

Chuck was mischievous, and leaned across to her neck.

"Hi Mr. Waldorf," he spoke into the mouthpiece, eager to play the game too.

"Are you at home?" Harold asked Blair carefully.

"Yes," she didn't offer anything else. "We're just," she bit her lip. "Debriefing," she finally settled on an appropriate word. "Dinner with Mom was not so good."

Unexpectedly, Chuck pressed his lips to her shoulder, all smarminess slipping away in a sincere attempt to comfort her. The genuinely tender gesture couldn't be escaped and Blair rested her cheek against his head for a moment, closing her eyes and remembering the argument she was embroiled in just before he arrived earlier that afternoon. His arm slid across her slip until he was wrapped around her belly and he cuddled himself into her. It was ridiculously over-affectionate and he nestled his head into the valley of thin silk between her breasts in a completely perverted way. But it made Blair laugh, just like he wanted, and squirm to get free only so he could clutch her tighter. They were almost wrestling before Harold's concerned "Blair?" interrupted them.

"Sorry," she continued to laugh, pushing Chuck's head away from her neck and weaving away determinedly. "He's teasing me."

He certainly was. As soon as he made contact with her neck he latched on and didn't let go, sucking fervently. Her laughter stopped and he suckled more firmly until she was opening her mouth needlessly because it felt so phenomenal. It took her a little while to realise he was going to leave a mark, in fact he intended to leave a mark. Her eyes rolled back and she had to bite her lip to keep from panting a disbelieving 'Chuck!'. He was good. Very very good.

"Well I'm glad you have a friend there with you," Harold's voice interrupted. "But where's Serena?"

"We had a fight," Blair's eyelids were fluttering because Chuck was _not _letting her neck go.

"I'm sure you'll make up soon," Harold contributed.

Blair wasn't paying enough attention to realise that Harold was suspicious.

"Would you like to talk later Blair bear?" her father asked.

She nodded, her breathing changing because Chuck was now caressing her hipbones through her slip and the thing brushing against her leg made it obvious he was ready to go again.

"That would be good," she murmured.

The phone dropped out of her hand onto the covers and Chuck reached for it, releasing her neck long enough to press the End button and close the call. He proudly surveyed the dark red his lips had left on her pale throat and grinned, sliding his entire body over her.

"You should give Nate lessons in how to get aroused," she murmured as she slid her hands into his hair and guided his face down to hers.

His hips slowly rubbed back and forth, letting her feel the extent of that arousal. Their mouths pressed together and he shivered because Blair's hands started gently pulling at his hair. She entwined her fingers and tugged, guiding him so he could kiss her properly, not that he needed assistance.

"If he's seen you like this and didn't get an instant hardon then his cock's broken," he murmured, distracted by her rolling her sweet sexy hips up into him.

She stilled. "Not for Serena."

He rolled his eyes and broke away, looking down at her in annoyance. They stared at each other for a few seconds, Chuck making sure he had her attention. Then he jerked his hips forward in a powerful thrust, knowing she felt every inch of him sliding over her thigh and belly. Further words weren't necessary. _This _dick was hard enough to cut rock and had needed very little foreplay to get that way.

"Whatever," Chuck lazily swiped his tongue over hers, eyelids heavy. "Some guys prefer Frankenstein's monster to Botticelli's Venus."

End game. She baulked, eyes widening in disbelief as his honeyed words trickled over her. Her head rushed with delighted endorphins when she heard the offhanded comparison and both of them knew he was about to be _rewarded. _She immediately rolled them over so she could take charge, and his mouth was caressed while desperate little tugs to his hair and a soft hand sliding along the firm line of his jaw ensured they were fervently kissing within a heartbeat.

Later that night when they exhausted his supply of condoms and he still wasn't done, Chuck decided it was now necessary to keep his driver on call twenty-four seven. Not that he didn't enjoy rehashing his earlier performance, and once again giving to her the experience of his most eager tongue on her dangerously sensitive skin. But he liked her spontaneity and the way she slid herself so completely into his arms, and he didn't like having to keep out of her body when she was so ready. Even if it was a holiday, he had demands that needed to be met and he'd employ a second and third driver if he had to.

They wouldn't find themselves unable to indulge that delight again, he'd make absolutely sure of it.

"Chuck?" she murmured sleepily.

"Hmmm?" He stroked her bared arm, only half-awake himself now that they were into the small hours of the morning.

"Thank you for rescuing Daddy's pie."

He could have made a crude innuendo, but for some reason resisted. Instead he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of her dainty knuckles.

"_Famous _Thanksgiving Pie," he corrected in a hushed whisper. "And anytime, Waldorf."


End file.
